Secrets and Sties: Another Missing Episode
by Alelou
Summary: A lovesick Tellarite threatens the security of the new coalition. Meanwhile, T'Pol and Trip wrestle over the boundaries of their bond. General ensemble piece with a strong TnT strand. Sequel to "Darkness Intruding." Now complete.
1. Teaser

**Spoilers: ** There are minor references from the whole series up through "Bound." Primarily, however, this is a sequel of my story "Darkness Intruding: The Missing Episode," which was designed to be the RU version of what happened in the MU in "In a Mirror, Darkly." It can be read alone, but will make much better sense if you've read "Darkness Intruding" first.

**Disclaimer: **All things Star Trek belong to CBS/Paramount.

**Author's Note:** Why haven't we ever seen a female Tellarite? That's the question that finally got me going with this story (perhaps especially since the last one ended with four alpha males from four different species toasting each other). I also wondered why there seems to be some tension between Trip and T'Pol in "Demons," so you can expect some tussling in that department. In general, expect non-explicit adult themes, some of them snout-nosed.

This is just the teaser. Act One should go up as soon as I have enough of an outline to assure myself that it doesn't need revision. (In the interest of getting this done before an overseas trip, I may also decide to depart from Star Trek's traditional teaser-and-five-acts structure. After all, you don't need to fit any commercials in, right?)

Note that I have also corrected my spelling of Gral. (Sigh. Those darned alien names!)

* * *

><p>Ambassador Gral strutted into the dimly-lit, red-draped lounge. As always, this exclusive establishment for senior government employees was warm and steaming with the luxurious mud pit that dominated it. But he barely noticed that, his attention drawn instead to the array of beautiful young women reclining decoratively on the large pillows arranged around its perimeter. Their lips were painted red and their teats were not really hidden by the filmy shifts they wore.<p>

Manageress Malaara, an older woman who was much more modestly dressed, stepped forward with authority. "How can we assist you, Ambassador?"

At this, the younger women on display about the room sat up, their ears swiveling forward – all but one, who looked to be perhaps the youngest there: she drew back further into her corner.

"Ladies," Gral announced to the room at large. "Having just achieved an amazing feat of diplomacy that I expect to benefit our people for generations, I am in the mood to celebrate. Who among you most deserves to bear my distinguished progeny?"

The women immediately began to vie for his attention by crowding up to him and snuffling and grunting lasciviously – all except the one in the corner, who stayed where she was and watched warily. Perhaps she new to this, Gral thought, dismissing her without a second thought. Virgins were far less likely to conceive a large litter, and he preferred a female with skill and enthusiasm in any case.

"I like the hips on you," he declared to one who had been so bold as to back her ample behind up against him. "Come, sweetness, let us demonstrate our faith in the future."


	2. Act One

**Disclaimers, etc**. in Teaser

**Author's Note:** Yes, there's more to go on this time... Thank you, reviewers. (It took true generosity to leave a review for such a short entry last time!)

* * *

><p>Jon sat at his desk in his ready room and reflected that it wasn't very often he had to entertain a higher-ranking officer there. He was glad Gardner hadn't expected him to give up his seat.<p>

They were currently orbiting Tellar Prime, where the admiral had just signed the final agreement with the other coalition members on the collaborative effort to reverse engineer the future mirror universe's shuttle and contents. Jon was actually a little disappointed at how quickly the agreement had been finalized. _Columbia_ had brought the admiral out, which had given Jon and Erika the opportunity for a couple of discreet visits beyond their official meetings, though having the boss around did make those moments feel even more furtive than usual.

Of course, if he found out, what could Gardner really do about it? Jon and Erika were of equal rank now, and Starfleet had invested a great deal in each of them. If they could put up with Trip and T'Pol, they sure as hell ought to be able to put up with them.

Hell, he could just go ahead and tell him right now.

Except that Erika would kill him.

Not to mention, it might make him look as if he'd let himself be played. She'd driven an awfully hard bargain for Trip's official return.

Gardner sipped Chef's just-delivered coffee and looked pleasantly surprised. "I'd say _Columbia's_ chef has the edge on pastry, but he's not even close to your coffee."

"Chef prides himself on stocking the best ingredients. It costs more, but I consider it a good investment in morale." Especially Chef's.

Gardner put his coffee down and started to pace.

"Mind the beam, sir." Gardner had taken a pretty good knock in the head the night before.

The admiral scowled and sat back down. "Coridan has petitioned to be included in any future coalition activities … with the emphasis on _any._"

"Do they know what we're up to here?"

"Not from us. We all agreed to keep that classified. But that doesn't mean they haven't heard something. I wouldn't be surprised if they try to sniff around."

Given the elaborate masks Coridanites typically wore when away from their own planet, Jon considered that a fairly awkward metaphor – you wouldn't even know they had noses behind those things. Personally, he felt there was something dodgy about a species that wouldn't show its face to strangers. "The Tellarites don't trust Coridan's relationship with the Orions."

"I don't blame them. Our intelligence suggests that at least some elements in their government are cozy with the Syndicate. However, we can't afford to turn our back on Coridan's dilithium."

No, none of them could, Archer knew, though the Tellarites had certainly tried. "Perhaps we could get them involved in something less sensitive, such as drafting the charter for the new coalition. Though I can't say it's too encouraging that we're keeping secrets from each other before we even get started."

"This is one hell of a secret. Frankly, your decision to share it as widely as you did has raised a number of eyebrows. There are also a few who feel we should have tried harder to retrieve the vessel for ourselves."

"That would have been a much greater risk. As it is, I don't think the Tholians are even certain who blew it up."

"Oh, I agree that destroying it was your best option. I just hope it won't come back to bite us both in the butt."

Jon sighed. "That's pretty much true of anything we do out here, isn't it?"

Gardner got up again, carefully ducking the beam and going to the window. "I think the need to find scapegoats has gotten more pronounced since the Xindi attack. You wouldn't believe some of the conspiracy theories out there." He lowered his voice. "Speaking of fodder for crazies, what's the latest chapter on your first officer and your chief engineer?"

Jon took a sip of coffee. "There is none, officially."

"And unofficially?"

"Let's just say that if you ever decide to separate them, we'll probably lose them both."

Gardner made his way back to his seat. "Maybe _Enterprise _isn't really the best spot for them anymore. I wish we could use them on this project."

Jon sat up in alarm. "Admiral, I don't think…"

"Ah, don't worry. It's not an option. The Tellarites have ruled out having any women involved."

Jon sat back. "No women? What's _that _about?"

Gardner shrugged. "I don't know. They claim it would be problematic."

"Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen a female Tellarite. Do they even _have_ females?"

"I'm told they do. But perhaps that's not really any of our business."

Jon grimaced. "We're not even going to _consider_ individual rights in this Coalition?"

"Are you suggesting we should demand basic Human rights for people who aren't even Human?"

"As I recall, the Vulcans were very interested in the rights we granted citizens of United Earth when they first approached us."

Gardner snorted. "That's only because the Vulcans love to write long reports. _They've_ been trading with the Tellarites for hundreds of years. Nor did they raise any objection to the Tellarites' requirement. The Andorians fussed for awhile, mostly because their best engineers tend to be female, but they ultimately went along, too."

The door buzzed, and opened to admit Erika. Jon wondered if _she'd_ heard about this requirement. She smiled at Jon, then turned to Gardner. "Admiral. Are we still getting underway at 1000 hours?"

"Captain Hernandez wants to get away with all her new crewmembers before I have any second thoughts," Jon said. "You _are_ still leaving me Trip?"

"Of course. And Reed, and Sato, and Mayweather, too. And how fair is that?"

Gardner chuckled. "Save the planet and you'll be able to protect your senior officers from other captains, too, Erika. Anyway, Jon tells me you've picked off the best young talent in every department."

Erika smiled. "I certainly tried."

Jon grumbled, "Trip had damned well better stick around for awhile."

x x x

T'Pol buzzed, then used her code to enter her bond mate's quarters. Trip had given it to her a long time ago, but she had finally decided that their relationship was such that she should start using it instead of waiting for him to open the door. She still buzzed first, though. That was simple courtesy.

He smiled from where he stood over an open duffle, and showed her the red t-shirt in his hand. "Finally got my stuff back from _Columbia_." That ship had already been docked with them for two days, but Trip had spent the majority of his spare time in T'Pol's quarters, happily exercising some of his more pleasant prerogatives as her bond mate.

She went up to a large brass item that he hadn't returned to its usual spot yet. "What exactly _is_ this device?"

"It's an antique diving helmet that I turned into an accent lamp," he said, picking it up and putting it on top of his wardrobe.

"Why?"

"Well…" He stuck his tongue in his mouth, and she wondered if he was hesitating because he was trying to figure out how to explain it to a non-Human, or for some other reason. "I think it looks nice." He tapped it on the side and the small light inside turned on. "It adds a little bit of warmth to my room. Kind of like one of your candles, only without the scent … or the fire hazard."

"You don't like the scent of my candles?"

"I _love_ the scent of your candles. It's all those open flames I'm not too keen on."

He could never quite let go of his disapproval of that, despite her excellent record of not burning down her quarters. "I suppose I could attempt to meditate to an artificial flame."

"Nah. The captain gave you your exemption. Hopefully we'll never have to find out just how good the fire suppression system in your cabin is."

She watched as he unpacked. They had already accepted the reality that they must maintain separate quarters. This was not without its advantages, for space was tight and Trip certainly had his own style. She watched as he lifted his Hawaiian shirt from a duffel bag and hung it.

He had his own style in other matters as well. "Trip … why didn't you want me to tell Ms. Cardini and Mr. Khan what we learned about Mr. Carter?"

"It would have just made them feel bad."

"Yet you agreed we should tell them he was dead."

"If we didn't, they might still be wondering if he was alive somewhere, or think that we ended up killing him because of their information. This way there's a little more closure and a little less potential for guilt."

"Then a lie of omission that is designed to prevent suffering is morally acceptable to you."

His eyes narrowed. "Yes. But I'm not _bonded_ to Ahmed or Tamar. I don't _need_ to share everything with them."

Ah. She sat down in his desk chair. It seemed to her that they had been warily circling each other over this exact question for much of their relationship, even in earlier years when they were no more than friends and colleagues. "You feel I have an obligation to share 'everything' with you?"

He sighed. "I know you can't tell me about Vulcan warp technology … or whatever the hell it is you did with Jon and Travis on that super-secret Vulcan mission you went on a couple of years ago. But I would expect to hear about anything real important to you _personally_. I'd sure as hell expect to know anything personal that _Jon_ knows." He put down the shirt in his hands and turned to give her his full attention. "For example, I'm still wondering why he asked me not so long ago if I knew what your 'prognosis' was."

She blinked. That had not been terribly discreet of the captain.

He smiled at her, perhaps intending reassurance, but it actually came across as more of a grimace. "So … T'Pol … what _is_ your prognosis?"

x x x

Travis went to collect Tamar and Ahmed from their guest quarters and escort them to the air lock. Neither had accumulated more than a small satchel of possessions after losing everything when the Orions had captured their freighter and its crew. Travis hoped they had some people and maybe even some stuff waiting at home. If this had ever happened to him in his days on _Horizon,_ there would have been nothing left at all.

He said, "Paul tells me you're both welcome on the _Horizon _if you decide you want to ship out again."

Tamar smiled sadly. "That's kind of him. And you, Travis."

Ahmed didn't smile. "I'd like to spend some time at home before I make any decisions. And the sooner we get there, the better."

They'd both become more anxious the longer _Enterprise_ had stayed in orbit around Tellar Prime. "You'll be there soon," Travis said. "_Columbia_ with an admiral aboard is about as safe a return voyage as you can get. I believe Ambassador Soval's transport may be accompanying you part of the way back as well."

"Good," Ahmed said curtly, and gestured for Travis to lead the way.

Travis knew that he and Tamar had been sharing quarters for reassurance, although they had insisted they were not 'together'. "So … are you guys still going to be sticking together once you get back home?"

Tamar gave Ahmed an uncertain look. "Our families get us first … and then, I don't know."

Ahmed said, "I feel like I'm not even sure who I am anymore. I'm just hoping we can avoid a bunch of reporters in our faces."

Tamar said, "I plan to visit Seth's parents. And some of the other families, too, I guess."

Ahmed shook his head. "And I know I'm not up to that."

"Well," Travis said. "You should be proud that you escaped. That took a lot of guts. Not to mention we wouldn't even have known about that ship without your help."

Ahmed's expression turned fierce. "I wish they'd _used_ it to blast those Orions out of existence once and for all."

x x x

One of the benefits of being a gifted young engineer in the government's employ was access to the premiere pleasure sty in the capital. Certainly the young man Shev was wasting no time in taking advantage of his new privilege. Malaara recognized him immediately, for this was his second night in a row.

Ah, the appetites of youth.

"How can I assist you?" she asked politely. It appeared that his anxious survey of the room was not pleasing him.

"Where is Patania?"

Oh dear. "Why do you ask?"

He drew himself up imperiously. "Just answer my question, woman."

She straightened to match him. "Don't try to pull rank with me, shoat. Perhaps she is with another man. Possessiveness is frowned upon in this sty."

But just then Patania arrived breathlessly. She went right up to Shev. "Can I serve you, sir?"

Malaara watched him try not to smile and fail. "Yes," he said. "Yes, I believe you'll do."

Patania held out her arm and led him away. Malaara watched irritably, but let it happen.

One of the other women, Reenie, rose from her seat next to the mud pool and approached her. "Is something the matter?"

The manageress frowned. "I shouldn't have allowed it."

"They're both so young. What harm could there be in it?"

Malaara sighed. Clearly, Reenie had never seen all the damage that young love could do.

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><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	3. Act Two

**Disclaimers, etc**. in Teaser

**Author's Note:** Thank you, kind reviewers.

I should note my constant gratitude to the magnificent resource provided by Chrissie's Transcript Site. I am feeling rather nervous because it is not up as I write this. I hope that is not permanent!

* * *

><p>T'Pol took a calming breath. "My prognosis is excellent. During my last visit to Vulcan, I was cured."<p>

Trip looked a fraction relieved, but also suspicious. "Of what?"

"Pa'nar Syndrome."

"Which is?"

T'Pol met blue eyes that had turned unusually steely. "A debilitating neurological syndrome caused by a badly performed mind meld. I contracted it from one of the V'Tosh Katur. Phlox was able to keep the symptoms under control, but until the Syrannites came to power it was widely considered incurable. My status also became quite problematic among any Vulcans who knew of it. As you know, mind melding was considered deviant behavior at the time."

"And you didn't think this was something you should share with me?"

"I felt it would needlessly distress you. There was nothing you could do about it."

He sank down on his bunk next to the open duffle. "But the captain knew."

"Eventually. Phlox was barred from a medical conference because of his somewhat surreptitious attempt to find out more about it. The High Command then attempted to recall me. Both situations entailed the captain's involvement."

He swallowed. "So … even though mind melding was a big no-no … you still melded with … who? Tolaris?"

"Yes."

He made a face. "Voluntarily?"

"Yes, initially. I was curious. It was a mistake."

"As I recall, you spent some time in a _coma_."

"Tolaris did not respect my wish to end the meld."

"I remember that you were ill, and they had to leave in a big hurry, and the cap'n was very hush-hush about it." She could sense his anger flaring. "So did that rat-bastard ever get punished for what he did?"

"I don't know what, if anything, the V'tosh Ka'tur might have done about it. But I had a great deal to lose if my condition became known."

"Maybe then, but what about now?"

"Trip, I don't wish to pursue the matter. I am cured. I was at least partly at fault. I should have known better."

"What if he tries the same thing on someone else?"

"No other Vulcan would be so…" _Stupid _was what she wanted to say. "…undisciplined."

He shook his head. "You know, you always seem to think you're the only curious or adventurous Vulcan in the universe, but I find that very hard to believe. You Vulcans _are _out here in space, after all. And there was a whole ship full of those V'Tosh Ka'tur. Look at your mother. Hell, even Koss was willing to break the rules for a good cause."

"Still, most Vulcans confine their curiosity to a far less risky range of behavior." She was quite sure, for example, that she was the only Vulcan in the universe to allow herself to become addicted to Trellium-D.

Should she tell him about that, too, as long as she was sharing secrets?

But that was so much worse, on every level. She'd never told the captain, either, and still hoped she'd never need to.

Trip had gone back to his unpacking, obviously still thinking about what she had told him. "You know, I was kind of wondering if you were ever gonna try a mind meld with me."

In truth, she sometimes had the urge to attempt a meld with him when they were mating. But she dreaded what he might discover in her mind during an unguarded exchange – or what she might discover in his. It didn't help that Trip was generally so fond of pushing her boundaries. "I am not well trained, and you have no training at all."

"You did it with Hoshi."

"In that case there was a need, and the captain drew on Surak's knowledge to assist me. Would you want the captain to assist us?"

As she expected, Trip quickly said, "No!"

"Then I don't believe it's worth the risk."

"You said Pa'nar Syndrome is curable now, so what exactly IS the risk?"

What, indeed? "You might not like it."

"So?" His face suddenly grew intent. "T'Pol, why do I get the feeling you're still hiding something?"

x x x

"It's quite an impressive facility," Jon said. Gral and the young Tellarite engineer in charge of the effort, Shev, were giving him and Trip and Malcolm a tour. Although Gardner and _Columbia _were already on their way back home, _Enterprise_ was sticking around until the rest of Earth's team had arrived.

Malcolm added, with obvious approval, "This far underground, it should be quite secure as well."

"And so it will remain," Gral said, "If you Humans can resist your tendency to blab secrets to everyone in the galaxy."

Shev said, "The shuttle engine will be examined in an especially secure sub-section. This way."

As they followed him down a long hallway, Trip said, "Gral, I'm curious. I've been told you won't allow any women on this project, no matter how capable they may be. Why is that?"

Jon noticed Shev's head swivel towards Trip, perhaps in shock. Jon had already briefed Trip and Malcolm about this issue, but since Gardner hadn't suggested the Tellarites were particularly sensitive about the matter, he hadn't warned them to avoid the topic. It didn't surprise him that the ever-curious Trip had asked; indeed, he waited for Gral's answer with rather keen curiosity of his own.

Gral frowned. "Few of our engineers are trained in cross-species contact. They would find your free-ranging females very distracting."

_Free-ranging?_

"Then you do_ have _women," Reed said.

Gral chuckled. "Of course. Who will bear the young if not them? As a matter of fact, I believe I may have contributed a litter to the next generation just last night. It was quite glorious!" Gral stabbed a celebratory elbow into the younger and shorter Shev, who looked irritated but said nothing.

Archer said, "So you have a wife at home?"

"A wife?" Gral said blankly.

"A mate?" Trip suggested.

Gral snorted. "When I wish to mate, I simply avail myself of a receptive female. It is the right of all men who contribute to society. One has to do without in deep space or on foreign worlds, of course, but a man finds ways to get by."

Jon saw Trip and Malcolm exchange quick, amused glances.

Trip said, "If you don't have your own mate, how do you see your children?"

"Oh, we see them once a year on Father's Day. Once they are weaned, the boys go into their academies and the girls go into _their_ schools. It is a very orderly system. Far more civilized than your own patchwork business."

Jon said, "You don't grow up in your own family?"

Gral puffed his chest out. "I was fortunate, in that my litter included a number of brothers. There is even one working here on this project. But family must never compete with citizenship. Right, Shev?"

"Right," Shev said, though his response seemed a little subdued. He punched in a number of codes and endured two scans in order to open a door to a large, nearly empty room. "We're still equipping this room, but you can see how secure it is."

"I don't know about that," Malcolm said. "It accepted your code and scans without requiring the same from the rest of us. What if we had ill intentions?"

Shev looked taken aback. "You couldn't have gotten into this facility in the first place without going through security. But I'll look into whether that needs more attention."

Jon sighed. Malcolm could find a weakness in any security arrangement that fell short of embedding a project in carbon and burying it in solid rock – which this project practically did. Jon turned to Gral. "I can't believe you only see your father once a year. Even when you were growing up?"

"_Especially_ then," Gral said. "That's when a youngster is most impressionable, after all. But I believe rural Tellarites or those out on the colonies often see their fathers more often – in small towns it's rather hard to avoid. You, Shev - you're from a colony planet, aren't you? Did you often run into your father?"

"I saw him quite often, Ambassador," Shev said. "Even my mother and sisters, sometimes."

"_Sisters!_" Gral sounded appalled. "In the city here, we don't have that problem. Once a year is enough for one's parents, believe me. I'm sure they feel the same."

"It sounds about perfect to me," Malcolm said.

Jon and Trip exchanged bemused glances. Jon couldn't imagine who he would be without his father or mother, and he knew Trip was fond of his parents as well.

"Our teachers and our classmates are the ones who truly form us," Gral continued. "_They_ are the ones we maintain ties with. The ones we _like_, anyway." He grunted.

"So … where do you live, if not with your own family?" Jon asked.

"Oh, I live in the capital when I'm not off-planet … as an ambassador, I have a private room in a prime building. The younger men share communal quarters. It's far more efficient than on Earth."

They had continued on to another, smaller room. "This is the weapons lab," Shev said. "The advanced phase pistols we recovered will be studied here. Notice the new blast shields."

"I'd love to help with that project," Malcolm said.

Shev said, "Unfortunately, I don't have you on my list."

"Yes, I know," Malcolm said. "_Enterprise _won't be here long enough."

"So where do the women live?" Trip asked.

Shev looked sharply at him once again.

"They have their own areas," Gral said vaguely. "The women take care of their own affairs … until they have need of us!" Once again, he elbowed the young man, who looked distinctly nonplussed.

"What do you do for entertainment, then?" Malcolm asked.

"Oh, whatever we like." Gral snorted happily. "Right, Shev?"

"There are mud baths," Shev offered, without much enthusiasm.

"Yes, yes," Gral said. "And eating and drinking … having a good argument … watching a good argument … playing sports … watching sports … mating with available females … watching available females mate. What else does a man require?"

"What indeed?" Malcolm said, smirking.

"Love?" Trip said.

The two Tellarites stopped dead. Once again, Shev turned to stare in fascination at Trip.

Gral's snout wrinkled up. "After spending so much time on your planet, I realize that you Humans like to make a fetish of romance. But here, I must tell you, _that_ is simply not tolerated at all."

x x x

Maraala sighed. It was young Shev's third night in a row. "Again?" she said. "You're certainly quite an energetic young man."

"Where is Patania?"

"She's not here anymore."

"Why not? Is she pregnant?"

"I have no idea. You will be notified in due course if you become a father. I had to have her transferred to another sty. You have only yourself to thank for that. You know quite well that personal attachments are not allowed."

"Where did you send her?"

"I'm hardly going to tell you that."

Suddenly squealing in rage, the young man surged forward and pushed her back against the red-draped wall. "I said _where did you send her?_"

"Shall I report this behavior to your superiors?" she asked between gritted teeth, trying not to let her very real fear show. He was not the first young man she had seen go berserk with possessiveness.

He snorted angrily, but let her go.

Fortunately, they almost always backed down.

She swallowed. "There are plenty of other women to serve you here," she said calmly, and a room full of women's ears swiveled towards them.

"I don't want any other women!"

"You say that now, but you'll get over it," she said. "At least, you will if you know what's good for you."

He panted angrily. "I _will_ find her!" he said, and stalked out.

Reenie ran up to her with a squeal. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Maraala said, smoothing her clothing and regaining her calm.

"_Are _you going to report him?"

"I probably should," she said, and sighed. "But he is so young. And it's not as if he could ever find her."

* * *

><p><em>To be continued…<em>


	4. Act Three

**Disclaimers, etc.: **In Teaser

**Author's Note:** First we have our requisite TnT scene, then a return to Shev's problem. (Re TnT, let's just say a mind meld might not always be a relationship panacea … and here's a heads up that this scene definitely includes some non-explicit sexual content.) Thank you very much, kind reviewers!

* * *

><p>Trip sighed. It wasn't the first time this had ever happened to him, but it was certainly the first time in over a decade.<p>

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was just a little too … stimulated. I guess I wasn't expecting you to suddenly meld with me after all your arguments against it." In fact, after the initial disorientation - which had nearly caused quite a _different _issue - experiencing what _she_ was feeling on top of what _he_ was feeling had pushed him right over the edge.

"I apologize," she said.

"I believe _I'm_ the one who must apologize." He rolled towards her and started sliding a hand down her body. "That doesn't mean we can't…"

She put her hand on top of his to stop its progress. "There's no need, Trip. I did experience _your_ experience."

"That can't be the same."

"It will suffice. And now you have experienced a mind meld, as you wished."

"Yes. But let's try it again sometime when we're not so otherwise occupied."

"Why?"

"Why not?" A suspicion formed. Had she perhaps _intentionally _sprung this on him when he was about as distracted as a man could get?

She'd claimed, before, that she was no longer keeping anything of great personal importance from him, but he didn't believe that for a second. First of all, "of great personal importance" sounded pretty damned legalistic. Second, he'd looked up Pa'nar Syndrome and noticed that until recently it was not only considered incurable, but _terminal_.

That was kind of an important detail for her to leave out … and presumably of rather great personal importance, at least at the time ... though he could just see her rationalizing that it was no longer relevant.

But she struck him as sincere when she said, "When we are being intimate is when I most feel an urge to touch your mind."

He blew out a long breath. The connection _had_ been amazing. He would never again doubt that she was taking as much pleasure in the act as he was – perhaps even more. "Unfortunately, that might not be too helpful to our love life."

"Perhaps it will come in more useful in the future. My research into Human sexuality suggests that boredom will likely set in for you within the year."

He laughed in disbelief. "What? That's ridiculous!"

"Have you ever been with the same woman for more than a year?"

Um… well, no. He'd once made it to ten months…

She interpreted his silence correctly, and said, "So you don't know."

"But we're bonded, remember?"

"You're still Human."

"If I were reacting like a normal Human, I'd have gone all ga-ga over those Orion babes like all the other guys. But I didn't."

"You are not behaving like a Vulcan bond mate either. Vulcans only mate every seven years. You, however…"

"Hey, I'm just making up for lost time," he said. He _had_ been keeping her rather busy. "Is it too much?"

"Hardly." She raised an eyebrow, and he wondered if she was making a thinly veiled commentary on what had just happened.

Who would ever have guessed T'Pol of Vulcan would be so enthusiastic about sex? That's why he didn't buy her argument about Vulcan males. "I still think that seven-year thing has got to be a myth."

"As I believe we have just learned, coitus is quite dependent on male arousal. So if a Vulcan male is not in his mating cycle…"

"He'd probably just need a little, I don't know … stimulation. He's still a _man_."

"A Vulcan _man _would see no logic in _seeking_ stimulation."

"Who needs to _seek_ it? If you're a guy, it's all around you, whether you're looking for it or not. You see a beautiful woman … even better, you find a beautiful _naked_ woman next to you in bed …" How he loved seeing her lying next to him like this. "Maybe you smell her, or get a taste of her…" He leaned down and nuzzled the delicious hollow of her neck with his tongue. "If you're lucky, she lets you touch her…" He began a determined caress.

Bingo. That hadn't taken very long at all. "See, that's all it takes," he said. "Second time around, darlin'… maybe I _could_ handle a mind meld."

"I don't believe I wish to take that risk," she said, and pulled him towards her with both hands.

x x x

Shev had grown up on a Tellarite colony planet, Shallashar, which had been settled primarily for its useful minerals and its location on a busy trade route. Because a number of species stopped in regularly for supplies and trading, with some even residing there, he was used to a far more diverse environment than Tellar Prime generally afforded. Now, he instinctively sought out the one bar in the capital that catered to off-worlders. It felt more like home.

"One ice-cold Andorian ale," he ordered, and took his drink to a dark corner booth. All Tellarite bars were painted in dark colors and poorly lit to mimic the relaxing conditions of a mud bath, but this one also flickered with automated neon signs and video feeds from around the galaxy. Throbbing Rigelian _k'per_ music kept the atmophere loud and anonymous, and the grand array of liquor on offer – most of it also from off world – glowed ethereally on back-lit shelves. Most other bars in the capital simply dispensed their own beers and ciders and malts from kegs under the counter.

He wondered what Patania would think of this place, before realizing how unlikely it was she would ever step foot in it. Alien women sometimes did appear, but Tellarite women had their own areas, closed to men, just as the men's areas were largely closed to them. The men ran the government, defense, and most manufacturing. The women produced most of the planet's food, textiles, clothing, furniture, and toys. They were also rumored to waste a great deal of time on art, music, dance, theater, literature and the other lesser arts.

When Shallash had liberated the Tellarites from the domination of the oligarchs over four hundred years earlier, he had argued that romantic love caused citizens to choose their own family's interest over their society's, inevitably leading to entrenched inequalities. He had further argued that 'love' sparked all sorts of undesirable behavior, from dangerous contests of strength between males to brutal crimes of passion from disappointed suitors and spurned spouses. Nor was it a good fit with Tellarite biology, he (and generations of scientists since) had argued: in the wild, their evolutionary cousin the wild boar only came together for mating when the sows were in heat; the rest of the time, the sows lived in herds and the boars either lived in groups or alone. By this logic, attempts at monogamy were essentially pointless, as illustrated by Tellar's perennially high divorce rate. Worse, the oligarchs had used marriage as yet another way to keep the lower classes in their thrall, by requiring them to live in endless debt simply to pay for dowries, weddings, infants' naming ceremonies, children's social debuts, children's education, family domiciles, and divorces.

As a result of Shallash's reforms, marriage was now unheard of except among the aliens; a Tellarite generally only saw the opposite sex when he or she desired to mate. However, out on the colony planets there was much more mixing in everyday life, not from any great divergence from Shallash's ideals (though there was a bit more open dissent the further away one got from the home planet), but because there simply was not enough population to make each group fully self-sufficient. Perhaps because of this, it was also not unheard of for young people to pair off, at least for the first litter or two, and for the others to pretend they didn't notice. There were even a few unconventional couples who struck out into the unsettled lands and stayed stubbornly together.

If Shev could just get Patania back home, perhaps they could be one of them.

But first, he'd have to find her.

"May I join you?"

He looked up. The man who had spoken to him was a Coridanite, judging from the elaborate facial mask. "Why?" Shev said, already sniffing the air warily. As project leader, he had already been briefed on the possibility of an attempt at espionage from Coridan.

The man sat down without waiting for the invitation. He then surprised Shev by removing his mask. "I hate these things," he said. "They make me itch."

Shev said nothing. Enough Coridanites had lived on Shallashar, if only to work in businesses that catered to their own kind, that he knew what they looked like 'at home' without their facial gear. They were rather like the Humans, really – tall, lacking in fur, with only an extra distinctive wrinkle or two around their tiny little snouts. This particular Coridanite had nothing to distinguish him from any other of his kind.

"I heard your accent when you asked for the ale," the Coridanite said. "I've spent a lot of time on Shallashar myself. How long have you been on Tellar Prime?"

Shev said nothing. Perhaps this fellow would take the hint.

He didn't. Instead, he smiled easily and said, "As it happens, I specialize in helping individuals solve personal problems that fall outside official channels." He placed a card on the table, which Shev made no move to pick up. "Let me know if I can be of any assistance." He smiled again, put his mask back on, and left.

Shev looked at the card. All it said was _Discreet Activities Undertaken, _with a local contact number.

x x x

Malcolm went through the various scans and checks and took the lift down and was finally greeted on the primary level of the project by Shev. Judging from the steady traffic of Tellarites and a few others leaving as he came in, it was the end of the workday.

"Thank you for coming, Lieutenant Reed."

"You said you might have a security concern?"

Shev grunted, which Malcolm took as a sign to speak more quietly. Shev gestured for him to follow, so Malcolm did, even as the lights in the corridor began to dim to their night-time settings.

He instinctively felt for his phase pistol and frowned as he realized he had been forced to hand it over for safekeeping above ground. There was no reason to worry, but he felt a prickling along the back of his neck anyway.

Perhaps he shouldn't have come alone. Of course, Captain Archerknew exactly where he was. And there was no reason to distrust the Tellarites' project leader. "Well?" he said, when he had finally been led to Shev's own office.

The Tellarite turned on some loud atonal music and leaned forward. "Last night a Coridanite approached me in one of our local bars. I can't be sure, but I believe he might be a spy. If he is, I believe that our project may have been compromised from within, since otherwise I don't know how he could have known to approach me."

"And you're telling _me_ before you tell any of your own people? Don't you feel you can trust Ambassador Gral?"

"I don't think the Ambassador is compromised, but the Ambassador is not particularly discreet. You appear to have a good handle on security matters. If this is a real threat, I am worried about alerting whoever on the inside is leaking this information. However, it could also be an innocent contact. I was hoping you could help me determine whether we are, in fact, at risk before I take this any further."

"Well," Malcolm said, "We can certainly try. Did you get any images of the man?" He shook his head. "Sorry, what am I saying? They always wear those masks, don't they?"

"Actually, he took it off. But no, I don't have an image. It happened very quickly. However, he gave me this."

Reed looked down at the card. "Huh. Well, the obvious thing is to set up a meeting in a safe place, which we will monitor. The question is just what discreet matter you want to propose he helps you with..."

Shev shifted uncomfortably. "There's someone … a female … who may be key to this investigation."

"A female? Why?" Reed said.

Shev grunted. "Because I am very concerned about her, and I believe he knows that."

x x x

Less than fifteen minutes later, after the Human requested and received permission from Ambassador Gral's office to search the women's database in light of a possible security exposure, and with Shev translating the screens that came up on the monitor in an auxiliary office in the complex, the Human had found her. It had only taken ruling out the other 534 Patanias currently residing in the capitol – not very difficult, since Shev knew where this one had been just the day before.

He knew this search might trigger alarms, especially if the Manageress had reported him. But the fact that Reed had undertaken the search instead of him might buy him some time.

"But this can't be your sister," Reed said. "According to this, she was born here, not on Shallashar."

"It's her," Shev said. Her ID photo was not nearly as attractive as Patania was in real life, but it was unmistakably his beloved. "It says she's scheduled for 'therapeutic cleansing' tomorrow. I don't like the sound of that."

"And this is who you think the Coridanite was referring to?" Reed said, sounding puzzled.

"Yes."

"I don't understand. How could a Coridanite even begin to get your sister transferred to Tellar Prime, let alone assigned to a hospital for 'therapeutic cleansing'?"

"All I know is that I have to get her out of there," Shev said.

"You'd need more authority than I have to do that."

"Oh, I've got another way."

The Human's eyes narrowed. "What is it?"

"This," Shev said, and took out a phase pistol and shot him.

* * *

><p>To be continued…<p> 


	5. Act Four, Scenes 1 and 2

**Disclaimers, etc.** in the teaser

**Author's Note:** I'm off to the auld country with my son and my auld faither for a couple of weeks, so this is just a little tidbit to tide you over until I can get back to this story (and my way of letting you know there will be a delay). As always, many thanks, reviewers. I'm afraid I probably won't be able to respond to any reviews you leave me until I return, either ... not that you should feel obliged to do so, with so little to go on here.

* * *

><p>"But why me?" Trip said. The captain had called a meeting around the situation room table to update their remaining senior staff on the news that Shev had taken Malcolm hostage. His demands included direct negotiations with Trip.<p>

Archer said, "He didn't say, but I'd bet it has something to do with you asking about love down there. The ambassador tells me Shev has become irrationally attached to a young woman he mated with recently – so much so, that the woman's superior transferred her away to avoid further issues. It turns out that young woman is exactly who they searched for in the Tellarite database - under Malcolm's authority."

Perplexed, Trip said, "But why would Malcolm help him with that?"

"Maybe he had no choice," Hoshi said.

Still not convinced, Trip shook his head. "Shev didn't strike me as a particularly violent person."

"He's holding our tactical officer hostage," T'Pol pointed out.

"And threatening to tell Coridan everything," Jon added. "And to _give_ them the weapon."

"Maybe he's just desperate. Love can do that to a guy." Trip waggled his eyebrows at T'Pol, whose stone-faced reaction struck him as indulgent, if only because she hadn't glared in disapproval as she normally would.

"It appears that he successfully picked the most sympathetic person to negotiate with," Jon said. "Gral says younger men and women sometimes get a little over-wrought about these matters. The woman will apparently cooperate and so will they with any reasonable deal you want to set up. Their priority, just like ours, is to protect the project … and to keep everyone safe."

"Do we even know that Lieutenant Reed is all right?" Travis asked.

Archer looked grim. "All we know is that Gral said he stunned him."

Trip said, "Look, do I really have to insult this guy to earn his trust? That feels pretty counter-intuitive in a situation like this."

Hoshi said, "I'd let him take the lead. If he insults you gratuitously, maybe you should try to return the favor. Otherwise…."

Captain Archer said, "He is the guy with the gun, after all. I don't remember Shev saying anything combative when we met before. I guess you'll have to play it by ear." He pulled up a schematic of the facility. "We're going to beam you down directly into the lobby, here," Jon continued. "There's less chance of any Coridanites who might be watching tracing you to the project that way. Shev specified no weapons. He didn't say anything about communicators, but those won't work once you get below lobby level."

"Okay," Trip said. "Well, time's a wasting."

"I will accompany you to the transporter room," T'Pol said.

"Good luck, Trip," Archer said. "No heroics. Get in, get Malcolm, get this resolved peacefully, and get out."

"Sounds like a plan," Trip said. A plan rather lacking in specifics, but apparently all he really had to do was reunite this man with the love of his life and all would be well again.

How hard could it be?

x x x

In the turbo-lift, T'Pol said, "You asked the Tellarites about love?"

Trip said, "Did you know that on Tellar Prime, men and women only get together to mate? That's it. They don't date, or marry, or cohabitate, or anything. They don't even raise their own children."

"Yes, I have been briefed about that. At least one Vulcan anthropologist has suggested that this may explain why Tellarite males are so fond of argument."

"How's that?"

"He suggested that in most other species, females have a civilizing influence on the male by preferring a safer, less violent, less contentious environment in which to raise their children."

Trip grinned. "Less contentious? Something tells me this guy never met you!"

T'Pol fell quite silent, and Trip thought _uh-oh_. "You do know I love arguing with you, don't you? Most of the time, anyway."

She said nothing, just kept barreling down the corridor. He put an arm out to stop her forward momentum; at the transporter they were bound to have company. "T'Pol," he said. "I asked them about love because I can't imagine living in a world where I couldn't be with you. Okay? I love you." Had he ever really come out and said that before? Normally, he figured it was too much for her Vulcan sensibilities to handle. But he was going off into at least a mildly perilous situation, and if by any chance he never came back he'd hate for her to think of their last exchange as an unpleasant one.

Her eyes softened, and she swallowed. "Then I trust you will be careful to return to me in good condition and as soon as possible."

"Of course," he said, and raised his two forefingers as Soval had taught him.

She joined her fingers to his, and with that contact he realized just how anxious she was at this departure. In an odd kind of way, it finally sank in that he was a married man now, with someone who truly depended on him for a lot more than just being a friend or a good chief engineer and senior officer. "This is really different now. Isn't it?"

"Yes."

"I'll be back soon," he promised.

TBC


	6. Act Four, Remaining Scenes

**Disclaimers, etc**. in the teaser

**Author's Note:** Back from a lovely, cool, mosquito-free, family-rich visit to the auld country and trying to wrap my head around this story again. At least I have an idea how it all ends now. This is the remainder of Act Four.

Thanks as always, reviewers. You're the bees' knees!

* * *

><p>Malcolm woke to a large porcine snout snuffling over him and instinctively reared back, or tried to. He quickly discovered that he had been tied quite securely to a chair.<p>

"Guess you'll be all right," Shev said, pulling back and pocketing what Malcolm recognized with alarm as one of the two phase pistols recovered from the Terran Empire's future shuttle. "I was afraid I got the setting wrong."

Malcolm blinked and tested his bonds, but Shev's engineering background had clearly come in useful. "What's all this about, then?" he demanded.

"I told you. Patania."

"Your sister." Malcolm was quite fond of his own sister, but this was ridiculous.

"She's not my sister." Shev nervously jingled something in his pocket. "She's the love of my life."

Malcolm stared back at him, thoroughly nonplussed. "I thought Tellarites frown on romance."

"They do," Shev said. "But it's not unheard of where I come from. And I believe I am in a unique position to negotiate a personal exemption."

"You're exposing our work, endangering your people, and destroying your career just because you're in love?" Malcolm said. "That's crazy even for Humans in love."

Shev said, "Perhaps your colleague will be more understanding."

"What colleague?"

At that moment a comm. on the panel in front of them buzzed. "The Human is here."

Shev grunted. "Send him down. Unarmed."

There was an answering grunt, and the channel closed.

Malcolm watched, irritated. Why would the captain risk putting someone else into the hands of this lunatic? Dare he hope it was an agent from Starfleet intelligence? Or would it turn out to be the captain himself? Archer was annoyingly prone to misplaced heroics.

"Stay here," Shev said unnecessarily, and left the room.

Malcolm furiously flexed and stretched, trying to find some give in his bonds, but it was useless. Then he heard a distinctive southern accent. "I'm not doin' a thing for you 'til I see that Malcolm is all right."

Malcolm sighed. Definitely not Starfleet Intelligence. Why oh why would the captain go along with this?

Trip offered him a lopsided grin as he strolled in, studiously ignoring the gun at his back. "How ya doin', Malcolm?"

"Getting a bit uncomfortable, actually."

Trip turned to Shev. "How about you let him go? That'd be a good faith gesture on your part. You've got me now."

"I'm hardly going to let your tactical officer go until I can get something for it," Shev said. "Here are my demands: I want Patania, a fast ship I can pilot myself on the roof of this building within two hours, and safe passage off Tellar Prime. If I don't get that, or if anything happens to me, not only are you both at risk, but a copy of the future database and the other phase pistol we recovered will be delivered to agents of Coridan."

"And where are these items right now?" Malcolm said.

"You must take me for an idiot," Shev said.

"Yes, exactly," Malcolm said. "A pretty big one, based on your current behavior."

Trip said, "How does your lady love feel about all this?"

Shev hesitated perceptibly. "She loves me."

Malcolm exchanged raised eyebrows with Trip. "Oh, now, don't tell me," Trip said. "You're asking her to give up her home planet and everything she's ever known … and you haven't discussed it with her yet?"

"I told her I'd find a way for us to be together!"

Trip snorted. "And she said okay, darling, whatever it takes, I'll follow you blindly, no questions asked?"

"No matter how insane you turn out to be?" Malcolm added.

Shev made a low growling sound and the end of the phase pistol in his hands rose a bit.

"Look, Shev," Trip said, in a noticeably gentler tone. "Take it from someone with a little more experience in these things than you. Love is just one part a good relationship. Mutual respect is also important. And trust. That doesn't happen overnight. Or when someone gets kidnapped."

"She and I won't have any chance to build a relationship on Tellar," Shev said. "But if we can get away, it's at least possible."

Trip looked back at Malcolm, who rolled his eyes. There was no reasoning with this guy.

The engineer turned back to Shev. "Well, fortunately your government says it's just fine with handing your girlfriend over to you and sending you on your way. But first, you need to let _us_ go, and also hand over the database and weapon you are threatening to hand over to Coridan … as well as the one in your hand."

Shev said, "If I do all that, they'll have no reason not to attack me immediately. My arrangement with Coridan is constructed as a fail-safe. Unless I personally retrieve those items, they will receive them long before you can find them."

"He's bluffing," Malcolm said, if only to see how Shev reacted.

Shev didn't even blink. "I'm not a fool," he said. "I know that it will be easy enough to dispose of me once I'm on the surface. I know that my old life is over. All I want is the chance to walk away in peace with my woman. Give me that in good faith, and all your secrets are safe."

Malcolm shook his head in disgust. Didn't Shev realize that half the galaxy would now be chasing him down until they had him? Even if the Tellarites let him go, the Coridanites wouldn't. Not even Starfleet could let him go if he still had that phase pistol with him.

"You do realize you're putting your sweetheart's life at risk with all this as well as your own?" Trip said.

Shev scowled. "You Humans are allowed to live with your loved ones without anyone questioning it at all. Apparently that means you take it for granted."

"Right," Trip said, lip curling. Shev obviously could have no idea what this particular Human had been through in this regard. "What'd you say her name was?"

Shev's tone turned distinctly dreamy. "Patania."

It was a little nauseating, really, especially given that he'd actually allowed himself to get tied up by this prat. Malcolm said, "Let's get this show on the road, then, shall we?"

For all they knew, Coridan or worse might be feverishly working at this very moment on some way to take advantage of this situation.

x x x

On a nondescript spaceship docked at the main trading post in synchronous orbit over the capitol, two nondescript men conferred over their sensor panel.

"I traced him here. In the three hours since, there's a build-up of life signs at and surrounding this commercial building even though it's the middle of the night."

"That's definitely Tellarite military ... are those Human bio-signs?"

"Yes, at least three. At least two Andorians as well."

"Interesting."

"Yes."

x x x

Shev knew that if he wanted to stay conscious and in control of his own destiny once they left the depths of the facility, he needed to give his superiors (and probably the Humans as well) a very good reason to leave him that way.

Reason number one was the fail-safe he had set up, or claimed he had. Even in his current state of emotional desperation, Shev hadn't considered even hinting at such important secrets to a rival power, so he'd never actually contacted the Coridanite who had approached him in the bar. He'd just led Reed and the others to think he had.

It would suffice, hopefully.

Reason number two was his hostages – but that was a little more complicated. One, hostage-taking was not exactly a minor crime on Tellar Prime (and probably not on Earth either). Two, these particular hostages out-numbered him, and Tucker had not proven to be nearly as sympathetic as he had hoped. Although they both looked scrawny by Tellarite standards, Reed undoubtedly possessed advanced military and security training, and Tucker had a significant height advantage and presumably some military training as well. Also, both men had reacted to captivity with singular calm, which suggested they were not strangers to this kind of situation.

On the plus side, Shev had a feeling that this was preferable to coping with two hysterical prisoners, especially as his own nervousness grew. Tucker's questions about Patania and Reed's easy scorn were quietly undermining his confidence in his plan. He now recognized that chances were excellent this was all going to just blow up into disaster. However, Shev truly saw no way out at this point.

Besides, wasn't she worth it?

When it came time for their departure, he noticed both men emitting danker smells, which he interpreted as uncontrollable signs of anxiety. His own heart had begun to race. They would all be vulnerable to whatever response the defense forces of Tellar had set up. Perhaps Starfleet's and Andoria's as well.

At the lift, he said, "You go ahead" to Reed, who had been walking ahead, his hands still bound behind him.

"You're releasing me?" Reed said.

"Yes. Go on ahead, then send the lift back down. Tell them that if I see any weapons of any kind pointed at us, your engineer won't be returning to his ship alive."

The smaller man shared a concerned glance with Tucker, then left in the lift.

"I don't believe for a minute that you want to do anyone any harm," Tucker told him.

Shev adjusted his weapon to 'kill' and showed it to him. "You're right, I don't, but I'll do what I must." He gestured Tucker into the returning lift. "In you go."

"Sure hope you don't have a nervous trigger finger," Tucker said, and walked in. Shev had bound his hands behind him, and the engineer was finally beginning to look as tense as he smelled: tiny beads of perspiration had broken out across his forehead. Shev maneuvered himself behind Tucker, then planted the gun squarely behind his shoulder blades and grabbed hold of the man's bound hands with the other.

One squeeze and this living, breathing man would be the first casualty of his brilliant plan. It was a sickening thought. "Yes, let's hope not," he said, and felt himself turn cold with purpose.

There was nothing left now but to play this out.


	7. Act Five: The Conclusion

**Disclaimers, etc. **in the teaser.

**Author's Note:** Sorry this has taken me awhile. If I'd been a good girl and outlined the whole thing from the beginning, I'd have realized Act Five is too long and rearranged my acts a little. Oh well. Since the only pay in fanfic is reviews, I guess I don't have to worry about running time. (Many thanks as always, reviewers.) Also, thanks to Putaro for beta help with this one.

Next, we return to the Missing Scenes and wrap that series up.

* * *

><p>A cold, damp wind laden with the odors of what Gral called "the spring manuring" blew across the barely-lit roof of the facility as a squadron of the planet's special forces waited quietly in a semi-circle around the door to the lift. Jon zipped his jacket up further and reflected that T'Pol probably would have found the environment even more unpleasant than he did.<p>

Not that she would have let it stop her, especially with Trip at risk. But T'Pol was not welcome here; even if he had pushed the issue by sending her down anyway, the Tellarites might not have accorded her any authority. "You know," he muttered to Gral, who was standing next to him, "You're throwing away half the talent in your population with your oppressive policies towards women."

It wasn't terribly diplomatic of him, but one was _supposed_ to insult Tellarites, after all.

"We don't oppress them," Gral said. "We merely divide our roles more appropriately than you Humans do. We avoid your hormone-driven free-for-all."

"What do you call this, then?" Jon grumbled.

"The lift is ascending," a soldier announced.

When the lift doors opened to reveal Lieutenant Reed alone, Archer yelled, "Hold your fire!" and Gral signaled the Tellarite CO to echo the command.

Malcolm walked out, hands obviously bound behind him, his mouth set in a grim line. "He wants me to send the lift back down for him. He also said he'll kill Commander Tucker if he sees a single weapon pointed at them."

Archer stared at Gral, and his scowling commander ordered the arrayed forces to lower their weapons. A Tellarite officer sent the lift down, while another released Reed from his bonds. "Report," Jon said.

Reed said, "He seems pretty resolute, but he's also getting very nervous. I would suggest keeping this transfer as low-key as possible. Is Patania here?" He looked around anxiously.

The Tellarite commander nodded to someone, who ran off and returned shortly, leading a smaller person. Archer couldn't help cataloging the features of the first female Tellarite he had ever seen: she was a bit round, as most Tellarites seemed to be, with a head of flowing blonde hair from which two distinctive ears protruded, and a simple white dress and long velvet waistcoat that appeared to be cinching in – here Jon's eyes widened involuntarily – three pairs of ample breasts, beginning in the usual spot and continuing all the way down to her waist.

_Six _breasts.

Proof, he reflected, that you really could have too much of a good thing.

It was hard not to notice the many Tellarite males in the room suddenly standing to attention and focusing all their attention on their visitor as well, who blushed and scraped her feet, and said nothing.

"Patania?" Archer said.

"Sir?" she responded, not quite meeting his eyes.

"You're willing to depart with Shev as he wishes?"

Her eyes rose to his in obvious surprise.

The Tellarite commander said, "Of course she is." He addressed the young woman. "Wait here quietly until we tell you what to do."

The lift door suddenly opened onto Trip, looking apprehensive, with Shev peering around him. To Archer's relief, the Tellarites' weapons stayed down. Trip shared a scowl with Jon and with Malcolm as Shev nudged him forward.

"Where's Patania?" Shev demanded.

The commander prodded her out into plain view.

Shev hesitated for a moment, as if he perhaps doubted the woman's identity, then nodded. "Okay, good. Are you well, Patania?"

She nodded, eyes wide.

He turned his attention to Gral. "The ship?"

Gral pointed across the roof, to where a sleek Tellarite runabout waited, gangway open, with only its running lights on. "We've fulfilled our side of the bargain."

"So far," Shev said, and pushed Trip ahead a few paces. "Patania, please board the ship first."

Patania looked questioningly at the Tellarite commander, who nodded, so she turned and walked – with frequent looks over her shoulder – towards the ship. Trip exchanged a long, grim look with Jon as Shev marched him over to the ship as well, just as planned. Shev had decided he needed a bargaining chip that would allow him to safely leave Tellar Prime.

Jon scowled in frustration as the doorway folded up and closed with his chief engineer on board, then took off. But at least he was still alive and well. He whipped out his communicator. "T'Pol, two to transport."

"Three," Gral corrected him, stepping closer.

Jon sighed. "Three," he said, and then the transporter took them.

x x x

Trip stood, his right hand cuffed to a handle bar in the tiny bridge of the Tellarite runabout, and was forced to hold onto it with his left as Shev took them abruptly up into the atmosphere and space. Shev had already buckled Patania securely into the only other seat and warned her to keep her harness on for safety reasons, though she had been trying to adjust it ever since to accommodate her mind-bogglingly extensive bosom.

Somehow he doubted there would ever be a Human-Tellarite pairing. Maybe on a desert island…

He'd said that about T'Pol once, hadn't he? But T'Pol made it easy to stray from the Human genome: everything was in the same place, not to mention glorious. The only differences really were complexion and temperature, and that pesky little detail that once 'mated' with her you were bound forever. But then, he rather appreciated that, now that they were getting along so well.

He found himself idly wondering what Tellarite pornography looked like even as he carefully evaluated all the equipment within reach of his free hand. Unfortunately, he couldn't read Tellarite, and none of it looked particularly useful to a securely handcuffed man in any case.

"Your ship is following us," Shev told Trip.

"As agreed," Trip pointed out, reassured to hear that _Enterprise_ was keeping up with them. Worst case scenario, maybe they could simply transport him home.

Shev peered down at something in his scanner. "Hmm."

"What?" Trip said.

"There's another ship at the edge of my sensors. I said no other ships."

Trip swallowed. In theory, at least, his continued existence depended on Tellar's cooperation with Shev's demands. "Could be a coincidence. This is a busy area of space."

Shev said nothing, monitoring, then apparently became more satisfied and turned towards Patania. "You must be feeling a little overwhelmed, sweetness."

She just stared back at him, eyes wide.

"You must be Patania," Trip said. "I'm Trip."

Her eyes flickered his way, but if anything she just looked more freaked out. Perhaps she'd never seen an alien in person before.

"I told you I wanted us to be together forever," Shev said. "And you agreed that would be nice."

She swallowed, and finally found her voice. "I was being _polite_."

"This may not be the ideal way to begin our life together," Shev said. "But don't worry - we'll have time to adjust." He frowned a little. "I have to admit, you look different than I remembered." He sighed. "That place was pretty dimly lit, wasn't it?"

"_In heat there can be no reason_," she said.

Shev frowned uncomfortably and turned back to his panel. "Guess you're past that now," he said, without looking back. "Still, I'd say we were drawn to each other pretty profoundly."

Trip watched her eyebrows rise skeptically. "You know," he said, "there's still time to stop all this."

Shev said, "We just need time to get reacquainted."

She cleared her throat. "Please don't take this personally," she said, "but I don't want to get reacquainted. I want to go home. I don't understand why you're doing this."

Shev turned and stared at her for a moment, then assumed an extremely reasonable tone. "Sweetness, if you still feel that way a year from now, I promise I'll find a way to send you back. But wouldn't you like a chance to actually raise your own children? To have your own family?"

"A _family_?" she said, clearly aghast. "What are you - a _reactionary_?"

"This is pointless, Shev," Trip said. "Let her go. _Enterprise_ can take her back to Tellar Prime."

Shev stared at Trip for a long moment. "And what am _I_ supposed to do?" he said. He peered down at his sensors again. "It's back."

"Sensor ghost?" Trip suggested, though he didn't believe it. More likely the Tellarites were trying to monitor Shev from just outside his sensor range, and screwing it up.

Shev was silent.

"Hail _Enterprise_," Trip suggested. "Ask them to warn whoever it is off."

Instead, Shev suddenly pulled the throttle back and the tiny craft went straight up into a tight 180 that left Trip hanging on for dear life. Patania gripped the edges of her seat and looked sick. Apparently Tellarites didn't believe in wasting resources on robust inertial dampeners.

Or maybe they considered this a sporty ride.

Or maybe Shev was just the worst pilot _ever_.

On the screen, Trip saw _Enterprise_ loom larger and larger until it sheared off to Shev's port. "What the hell are you doing?" he screamed at Shev.

Shev continued right past _Enterprise_. "Let's see if whoever it is backs off," he said darkly. "As per our agreement."

Trip watched anxiously as whoever it was – and it didn't look particularly Tellarite – instead grew steadily larger in the view screen.

Shev pulled the phase pistol out of his pocket and glanced over his shoulder at Trip.

Damn it. He really didn't want to have to die just because Shev was throwing a hissy fit about some other ship that had blundered into this little drama. "You don't even know who they are," he said. "Don't do anything you'll regret."

"Too late for that," Shev said. He pressed a button, "Vessel, identify yourself."

The view screen suddenly filled with a man in a robe with an ornate Coridanite mask covering his face. "We meet again," the man said.

"What are you doing here?" Shev said. "I didn't request your help."

"You didn't need to," the Coridanite said.

"I don't want you here," Shev said.

"I'm afraid that's not an option," the Coridanite said, and dropped the connection. On the screen, the craft loomed ever larger.

Trip said, "Call _Enterprise_, ask for assistance."

Shev said nothing.

"It's not too late, Shev," Trip said. "You could request asylum. Or claim temporary insanity."

Shev abruptly executed another unnerving loop back to his original course, then flipped a switch on the helm. "Shev to _Enterprise_. Prepare to transport over your engineer." He looked over at Patania and said roughly, "You want to go with him?"

She looked at Trip, as if hoping he could give her the right answer. Shev was, after all, still holding a rather nasty-looking phase pistol.

"Take Patania, too, _Enterprise_," Shev said, apparently deciding on his own. "You can…"

But then a massive concussion hit them from behind and everything went to hell.

x x x

T'Pol was at the transporter, where she had maintained an obsessive lock on Trip for the last ten minutes, when the captain told her to include Patania in that as well, then quickly amended that to "Transport _all_ of them if you can!"

She resisted the urge to tell him that re-establishing locks on all three risked losing the lock on Trip and started over, though she soon realized she would have had to do that anyway in order to compensate for the little ship's suddenly chaotic trajectory.

Finally, she got all three figures to materialize - not one of them upright. "Medical emergency at the transporter," she said. "I have _three _casualties," then climbed up to where Trip lay, moaning, his right wrist and arm twisted in brutal compound fractures. She laid her hand on his forehead, hoping to soothe him, and perhaps also to reassure herself. "What happened?"she asked him, but his eyelids were fluttering and he passed out.

As she frantically pulled out her scanner to assess his condition, she heard sniffing and crying from the female. "Patania?" she said.

"Ye-es," the female said, voice hitching. "It hurts."

"Help is on the way," she said, even as Phlox and a group of assistants arrived, bearing stretchers.

Phlox did a quick survey of all three patients, medical scanner at hand, and quickly focused his attention on the male Tellarite, who did look the most damaged. "Immobilize him and get him to sickbay," he said, directing two of the MACOs who doubled as medics, then turned to Trip. "He'll be fine," he said to T'Pol, and told the others to bring Trip along after. "Take care with that arm. This young lady…"

"Patania," T'Pol told him.

"Patania, you're going to be fine. You have a minor case of whiplash and some bruising," Phlox said. "Neck brace for her, please."

She sobbed.

"Plus fifty milligrams of anaprovaline and one unit of sonambutril," he added curtly, and took off after the stretcher with Shev in it.

x x x

From the tactical station, Reed said, "They've attached a grappling line to the runabout."

"Can't have that," Jon said.

Malcolm frowned in concentration, then nodded and fired. The aliens' grappling line broke, which left the battered Tellarite runabout rolling aimlessly in space again, this time trailing a length of cable.

"Nice shot," Jon said, and Malcolm smiled.

Gral said, "That's definitely not a Tellarite ship."

"Coridanite?" Jon asked the new ensign at the science station. Erika's cherry picking had resulted in new duty posts in most departments.

With admirable calm, Ensign Cheng said, "At this scan level their species is not easy to distinguish from a number of other Humanoids, sir. However, they do appear to be wearing metal implements on their faces, possibly masks."

"The weapon they used was not typically Coridanite," Reed said. "Nor does their warp signature match any known Coridanite configuration."

"Definitely not Tellarite?" Archer asked Cheng. "Or Orion?"

"Definitely not, sir," she said.

Malcolm added, "It doesn't match anything in the database. Perhaps it's custom-built."

"Captain!" Travis said. "Two ships, bearing down fast."

They were already in tactical alert, so Jon just looked at Reed, waiting. "Not Tellarite," Reed reported. "And their weapons are charged."

As Jon had feared, Hoshi's hails were ignored. "Do we have any ID at all?" he asked, hesitating to fire, but they settled the question of their intentions by firing first.

The bridge shuddered, and Reed reported, "Their weapons appear to be similar to our own. Forward hull plating is down to 80%."

"Evasive maneuvers, return fire," Jon said, and turned to Cheng. "Anything, Ensign?"

"Same species as the first ship, same hull alloy, slightly different configuration."

Jon turned to Gral. "You _did_ call in the cavalry?"

"They should arrive momentarily, Captain," Gral said.

"That would be nice," Jon said. On a sudden hunch, he told Malcolm, "Blow up whatever's left of Shev's runabout."

Malcolm looked a bit perplexed, perhaps at the distraction from what he surely considered the higher priority, and launched a torpedo at the wreck just as _Enterprise_ absorbed another round of fire.

The runabout exploded into a flash of light followed by a cloud of particles, a show matched by the more immediate showers of sparks on the bridge.

"All three ships are moving off," Mayweather said.

Gral said, "Cowards. They must know that our ships are on the way."

Or perhaps there was nothing there for them anymore, Jon thought, and sat back in his chair. What had they been hoping for? Did they think Shev had the database on him? Did they want that phase pistol? If so, didn't that suggest a pretty serious security breach somewhere on Tellar?

He considered ordering a pursuit course, but the Tellarite fleet still hadn't shown up and _Enterprise _had already taken damage and would obviously be outgunned.

Still, the mystery irritated him. It was probably Coridan, but they would never be able to prove it.

Hell, for all he knew, it was Harris.

x x x

T'Pol watched Trip straighten up with a slight wince as the captain and Ambassador Gral walked into sickbay. He had made a fast improvement since the surgery Phlox had performed on him the day before, but still faced a great deal of therapy to regain full use of his arm and hand.

She'd felt a surge of pure fear from Trip when Phlox told him, "Ignore my instructions the way you usually do, Mr. Tucker, and you could be end up a right-handed engineer who can't use his right hand. Of course, we could choose to replace it with a prosthesis if necessary."

Her bond mate had paled.

"I will monitor his cooperation," T'Pol had said.

"Good," Phlox said. "Commander, I'm not simply trying to scare you. The truth is that even with the best therapy, we may not be able to get your hand back to 100%. So let's make sure we give it our best effort, hmm?"

"Of course, Doc," Trip had said faintly.

He still struck her as subdued now as he joined the captain and Ambassador Gral at Shev's bedside. Shev, who had only now been declared stable enough for travel, was due to be transferred today - if he wished.

"You can still request asylum," Trip told him. "The ambassador says Tellar won't object."

"Where's Patania?" Shev had asked.

Gral said, "On her way home – at her request."

Shev blinked up at the ceiling. "What a fool I've been."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Trip said, "I've been a fool for love plenty of times." He looked over at her and winked, and T'Pol experienced an odd moment of pure gratification.

However, it was followed by some concern. Just how many times _had_ he been a fool for love? And was this a pattern he expected to continue into the future?

Gral said, "Obviously, asylum with the Humans would exile you from Tellarite society forever. But if you choose to return home, there will likely be severe consequences for your actions."

"Perhaps if Shev had an idea what they might be…" Trip suggested.

Gral said, "I'm not a judge, Commander Tucker. Assuming that Shev did not in fact intend to share any vital information with Coridan, he will probably escape the most severe punishment. There are provisions for youthful indiscretion in our judicial code."

"I just want to go home," Shev said.

x x x

Released to his quarters at last, Trip waited until his door had shut on them both and then turned to kiss his bond mate … his _wife _– though, in truth, until that was made official on Earth, he sometimes had a hard time thinking of it that way.

As much as she had hovered over him in sickbay, for example, they had been forced to maintain the token fiction that they were merely fellow officers. And that rankled.

She kissed him back, carefully. "We mustn't injure your arm."

"And we won't," he said, pressing her up against the wall with everything _but_ his arm.

When they came up for air, she said, "So you've been 'a fool for love'?"

"Of course" he said, smiling. "I was a fool for love when I let myself get into a relationship with a beautiful woman in the same chain of command. Not that I regret it now."

She frowned. "I was not a Starfleet officer at the time. Nor did you report directly to me."

"Technicalities, darlin'."

Her face darkened. "If it was inappropriate then, surely it still is."

He grinned. "Oh well. Are you going to try to claim that _you've _never been a fool for love?"

"No. I have been, more than you know." She sat down on his bunk and suddenly looked very serious.

"Well, you did get involved with a smelly, emotional, short-lived Human."

"I did much worse than that," she said, utterly failing to match his light tone.

Was this was what she had been hiding from him? He sat down next to her. He grabbed her right hand in his good hand. "Tell me."

She looked searchingly at him. "You won't like it."

"Tell me anyway."

She swallowed. "It involves Trellium-D."

x x x

Shev woke up in a soft bed, staring up at a soaring ceiling with rustic wooden beams.

"He's awake," an unfamiliar female voice said.

He turned his head. An older female sat in a rocking chair at his side, and Patania was hurrying to them.

Was this a dream? "Patania? What am I doing here?"

"Instead of sending you to prison, the judge decided to detail you to our compound," the older woman said.

Patania smiled shyly down at him. "I'm sure we can use your skills in the collective."

"We can be together?" he asked, stunned.

"We're all together here," she said.

"I don't understand," he said. "Where's the punishment in that?"

The two women looked uncomfortably at each other. "There was some sacrifice involved."

"Sacrifice?"

"Your testicles were surgically excised," the older woman explained, "to prevent your particular tendencies from reappearing in future generations, and allow you to live peaceably among us."

Shev stared at her in horror. _What?_

She smiled. "We hope you will be very happy here, Barrow Shev."


End file.
